


Without

by anotherdeadpoet



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Implied non canon major character death, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28594419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherdeadpoet/pseuds/anotherdeadpoet
Summary: When Neil Perry decided he was trapped, he never considered how his actions would trap others.In which we explore the consequences of Neil's death, and how his friends, and even his enemies, became trapped in a world without him.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	1. Before We Begin

**Author's Note:**

> I decided it would be easiest to make an initial chapter for disclaimers and notes I want to give before I begin uploading the actual story, so here is that.

This entire story revolves around how the remaining dead poets cope with and move on from Neil’s suicide. Thus, there are going to be some very heavy and potentially triggering topics. Specific trigger warnings will be listed in the notes at the beginning of each chapter. I implore you to read these warnings thoroughly, and to take care of yourself and your mental health. The main note I will not be putting at the beginning of each chapter is “aftermath of suicide,” as this will pertain to the fic as a whole. However, when the topic of suicide is directly mentioned, I will warn you of that.

I will be majorly straying from the post-neil’s-death portion of the movie plot, as it is my fanfiction and I get to choose who stays at Welton (sorry, I had to throw that meme reference in here). You can assume that everything that occurred earlier in the film has also occurred in the universe of this fic, unless something is stated in direct contradiction.

My goal is to publish a new chapter every week, although that really just means updating as frequently as possible, whether that’s three chapters in one week (which I will say now is incredibly unlikely) or one chapter in three weeks. I should also note that I only have the first few chapters lightly planned out, and I genuinely do not know where this story will take us. I can’t promise that the ending will be happy per say, but I’ll try not to make it horribly tragic, either. Thank you so much for checking out this fic, I promise I will have an actual chapter posted ASAP and I truly hope you enjoy it.


	2. Hollow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Nightmares, death mention, implication of suicide
> 
> The first section of this chapter is quite repetitive, including a paragraph of very repetitive thoughts. These things make me fairly anxious, so be cautious if that's true for you, as well.

Todd woke up shaking. He took a few slow breaths, attempting to steady his rapid heartbeat, but to little prevail.

It’s ok, Todd. It’s just a nightmare, Todd. It’s just a nightmare and you have them all the time. You have them all the time and they’re not real. They’re not real and he’s ok. He’s ok and he’s in the bed across from yours.

Except he isn’t.

It was, in fact, a nightmare. Only, the nightmare was a replaying of the events of December 16th. When Todd sat up, he found Neil Perry’s bed completely empty.

Neil’s dead.

Except he couldn’t be dead. It made no sense. 

Todd swung his feet over the side of his bed, placed them carefully on the cold, wooden floor, and stood up. His mind was clouded. He stumbled over to Neil’s bed, laid down, and pulled the covers over his face. He burst into thoughtless tears before falling back asleep.  
____________________________________________________________________________

“Todd,” Charlie whispered. 

Todd flinched as he awoke. This was precisely how December 16th began.

Charlie quickly realized his mistake. “Sorry...Todd. We’re going to the cave soon. You want to come?”

The cave. Where Dead Poets Society meetings took place. Neil was the one who encouraged them to bring back the Society. Neil was the one who read the opening for each meeting.

That was Neil’s cave.

“The cave?” Todd asked, groggily.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice had a shake to it that it never had until December 16th. It was less confident. Less energetic. Less happy.

“But that’s Neil’s cave.”

“That’s why we’re going,” Charlie said. “Knox said we should, ‘cause maybe we’d be able to feel his energy or something. I don’t really believe it, but honestly? I’d jump off a fucking cliff if you told me I’d see his face for a second on the way down.”

Todd nods. “Ok.”  
____________________________________________________________________________

On the way to the cave, Todd trips.

“Shit, are you ok?” Meeks asks, sounding far more concerned than was reasonable for someone tripping.

Todd understood why. His mind skipped back to the previous day, when he collapsed in the snow. He picked himself up, shaking. God, why did he have to shake so much?

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.”

The rest of the trek was torturously quiet. The only sounds were the crunching of snow and the distant voices of people back at Welton. Everything felt broken. Pitts had spoken a grand total of four words in over twenty four hours. Meeks kept muttering things no one could quite understand. Knox laughed every so often. A hollow laugh that almost felt like a prayer. Or a plea. Charlie was far more reserved than Charlie ever should be. He wouldn’t be recognizable if it weren’t for him being in the same body as before. Cameron...where was Cameron?

“I’m gonna look for him,” Todd said, once everyone had noticed his absence.

“Yeah, me too,” Charlie replies, clearly feeling the need to accompany Todd.

They found Cameron sitting under a tree. Tears rolled down his cheeks, although it didn’t feel quite like he was crying. His eyes were fixed on the lake, several yards away. 

“Coming?”

“You don’t want me there.”

“I do,” Todd said.

Cameron let out a small laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“Come on. Even if we didn’t, we’re going for Neil, and I bet he does.”

Cameron knew that was true. Neil always liked Cameron more than the others did. He liked the way he kept them grounded. He also felt sort of bad for Cameron, admittedly, but Neil Perry never made friends strictly out of pity. He had his reasons to befriend Richard Cameron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this all in one sitting, and I had a very specific mix of emotions while I did, so I decided to just leave it as it was.
> 
> Have a good day/night, and I shall see you whenever I've written up the next chapter.


	3. Look at Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death mention, arguing/yelling, panic attack

In the cave, Todd took off his coat, then his sweater, leaving only a white t-shirt. This struck the others as odd, considering the cave was even colder than the exposed outside. He shivered but didn’t so much as wrap his arms around himself.

“Todd,” Pitts said, “you’ll freeze to death.”

“Ha, well that doesn’t sound too bad, now does it?” his voice was flat.

Knox looked at Todd.

“Please...don’t...say that.”

Todd just shrugged. Charlie had his knees up against his chest, and, though his head was pointed straight forward, his eyes drifted to the ground. A thought entered his mind, and he tried to push it out, but couldn’t. You can’t push out the truth, try as you might.

These aren’t the people you became friends with. You would never stay friends with these people. They wouldn’t stay friends with you.

“I hate him,” Charlie blurted out.

Meeks’ head jerked up. “Huh?”

“Neil,” his voice broke slightly, but he caught it. “I hate him.”

“No you don’t,” Cameron said. If there was one thing he knew about Charlie Dalton, it was that he absolutely loved Neil Perry. The two were only separable when Neil was being particularly inseparable from Todd. Still, Charlie persisted.

“Look at us. Ok, fucking look at all of us. He did this. He-”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Todd interrupted. “You know that. You know it wasn’t his fault.”

Charlie’s voice was even angrier than a moment ago. 

“Look, at yourself, Todd. You’re acting like a complete asshole, which isn’t you. You’re sitting in a fucking cave, in December, in a fucking t-shirt.” A bit of Charlie’s anger switched to confusion. “What’s that about, anyway?”

Todd fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt. Meeks noticed, and felt like he could breathe for a moment. That was normal. He always does that. He always has. That’s Todd Anderson.

“It was always warm during meetings. We either had the fire, or we just wore a bunch of layers. That cave’s warm, and I don’t want to be in that cave anymore.” His breaths became shorter and shallower. “I don’t want-”

Knox reached out his hand, and Todd, growing increasingly anxious, grabbed it. They exited the cave and sat down next to a nearby rock. Todd could feel his heart pounding, and his chest felt so tight he thought he might have a heart attack, right then and there.

“I want you to breathe, ok?” Knox said, managing to keep his voice even.

Todd gave a stiff nod. He tried to breathe deeply, but ended up choking.

Knox almost put his hand on his shoulder, before thinking better of it. “You’re fine, you’re fine. Keep trying, you’ve got it.”

After a couple of minutes, Todd managed to get out a few deep breaths. They were shaky, but at least he was breathing.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be. It’s ok. Really,” Knox said, meaning it. “Want to go back to the dorms?”

Todd shook his head. “Dock.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The lake was mostly frozen, and sunlight glistened on the thin layer of ice. A woodpecker could be heard from the forest. It’s interesting, isn’t it? How such perfect scenery can be the setting of such a tragic story. 

Knox gave Todd his jacket, leaving himself in a grey Welton sweatshirt. Their legs dangled over the edge of the dock. They were waiting, although neither knew quite what for. The air was frosty, yet still, as though a breeze should have been present, but wasn’t. The silence eventually grew too heavy.

“How do we stop missing him?” Knox asked.

“I don’t think we do.” Todd stuffed his hands into the coat’s pockets. “Definitely not now. Probably not ever.”

“I wish I could. I bet it would feel wrong, though. Like we get to keep living, he doesn’t, and we don’t even miss him.”

Quiet fell upon them once again. There were too many questions, and far too few answers. That was probably for the best. They likely didn’t want most of the answers, even if they were available.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if the writing seems sort of lazy in this one, I was struggling with it a bit. I'm genuinely looking forward to writing the next chapter, so hopefully that'll turn out nicely for y'all.
> 
> Unrelated thought that I feel the need to share. If Neil were alive today he would love Mumford and Sons. I stand by that.


	4. Open Windows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Direct discussion of suicide/death, arguing/yelling, implication of suicide attempt

Late at night, Todd found himself pacing the bedroom floor. He wasn’t exactly thinking. His brain was buzzing, as though it were full of radio static. He tried to keep his gaze from meeting Neil’s bed, knowing he’d probably cry if he were to look at it. He was extremely sick of crying. Eventually, coherent thoughts began finding their way into his mind.

 _He wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t do that. Not in a million years. He loved life. He loved_ **_us_ ** _._

_Didn’t he?_

_Didn’t he love me?_

Todd knew none of that really mattered. Not anymore. Regardless of how much Neil loved them, regardless of how much he loved life, regardless of how unlikely he seemed to do _that_ , he did it.

 _He_ **_killed_ ** _himself._

He killed himself, and Todd wanted to know why. Not just the obvious “he did the play and his father was mad.” That didn’t explain shit. It had to be more complicated than that. Neil was the epitome of carpe diem. He was so good at seizing the day, so good at living deliberately and sucking the marrow out of life, until it came to that day. 

_Unless._

He seized his life.

_Fuck._

____________________________________________________________________________

“Anderson,” Mr. Nolan called.

The others watched Todd slink away into the office.

“It’s so fucked that they’re making him do this,” said Charlie.

Meeks agreed. “It’s been less than a week. Let the kid breathe. I mean all of us, but…” he trailed off. 

The conversation ended there. Cameron fiddled with a pen. He had stolen it from Neil, about a year ago. It was nothing special. Silver with a fine point. Part of the clip was chipped, and it poked you a little if you ran your finger over it. He began to regret never returning it. Not that it would serve him much use anymore, but it was still his pen, and he cared quite a bit about his pens. Cameron made a mental note to put it in Neil’s desk drawer as soon as he got the chance.

After an agonizingly long twenty minutes, Todd stepped back into the hallway. Charlie practically jumped.

“How’d it go? What’d they ask you?”

“More importantly, what’d you say?” Pitts added.

Todd’s tone was near impossible to read. “They asked about the club. And Keating’s class. And if I thought Keating had anything to do with Neil’s death.”

Pitts was taken aback by the last part, but didn’t want to steer off course. 

“And?”

“I said yes.”

“Wait wait wait,” Charlie was certain he was misinterpreting. “They asked if Keating was responsible for Neil’s death? And you said yes?”

Meeks felt his hands shake. “Todd. Why the living fuck would you do that? You worship Keating almost as much as Neil did.”

“That’s not important,” Todd said, plainly.

“Uh...yes, it definitely is.”

“It doesn’t matter how I felt about him. You all know that, if it weren’t for Keating, Neil would still be alive.”

“I-” Charlie tried to hold himself together, but he was furious. “Sure, ok, fine, maybe Neil only did the play because of him, and maybe that was the thing that pushed shit with his father over the edge, but he wouldn’t off himself from that alone. The play was good. Him seizing the day or whatever was good.”

“Well, maybe if no one taught him to seize the day, he’d at least have more of them.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Back in his own...yes...his _own_ room, Todd yanked his notebook off the shelf and sat down on the bed. He realized he hadn’t grabbed a pen. He muttered a quick “damnit” before getting up to find one. After sitting back down, he flipped to an empty page.

_Neil,_

_You were right. I can’t take care of myself just fine._

_-Todd_

He ripped out the page, stood up, and fumbled in his desk for the matches he kept hidden. The first three wouldn’t light, even after several tries. When the fourth match finally ignited, he set the paper aflame. Todd’s eyes were fixed on the fire, and he just barely blew it out in time to avoid burning his fingers. With the letter gone, he pulled on a sweater and opened the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half of the symbolism and parallels in that last Todd scene weren't even initially intended but hey, sometimes the fic writes itself and I'm just here to put it on paper.


	5. Carpe Vitae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicide mention

It was the last class before winter break. Mr. Keating leaned back on his desk, scanning the faces of his students.

“Does anyone know where Mr. Anderson is?”

No response. Some of the kids glanced around the room, having not priorly recognized Todd’s absence.

“Mr. Dalton?”

“No, sir,” Charlie responded. He wasn’t exactly shocked that Todd wouldn’t show for class, particularly this class, but no one had seen him since dinner the night before.

“Alrighty, then,” Mr. Keating said, “I suppose he had to hit his rebellious phase eventually.”

This warranted a few small chuckles. Class went on, mostly as usual. The day’s lesson was about “seizing the day, as though you have nothing to lose, but with the knowledge that you, in fact, have everything to lose.” It was exceedingly obvious what had prompted that.

Mr. Keating’s discussion got Charlie thinking about what Todd had said after his meeting with Mr. Nolan.

_ Maybe if no one taught him to seize the day, he’d at least have more of them. _

The lesson did seem a little late. It would’ve been nice to get a reminder of everything you have to lose, before someone lost everything. Still, Charlie knew Keating couldn’t reasonably be blamed for a student killing themselves. It was carpe diem. Not carpe vitae.

____________________________________________________________________________

Todd wasn’t at dinner. Pitts pointed it out, and the others, still bitter from the previous day, had said not to worry about it.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Probably in the library or his room.”

He was not in either of those places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very brief little chapter in which I answer approximately zero of the questions prompted by the previous chapter.


	6. Mors Vincit Omnia

“Neil?”

Neil was sitting at his desk, reading a book. He had a very concentrated expression. Todd thought there was a hit of sadness to it, although that may have just been his usual reading manner. It would be difficult to tell without taking pictures of him, each time he had a book open.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He sounded genuine, but this was somewhat concerning. Neil never really sounded genuine, particularly when he actually was.

Todd scratched his arm. “Not right now...or, yes, right now, but...I mean in general.”

Neil paused. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He wasn’t  _ not  _ ok. Really, apart from the constant heaviness in his chest and ever-present undertones of dread, he was perfectly fine. As far as he had convinced himself, these feelings were normal. 

“Yeah.”

“I’m worried about you.” This came out weaker than Todd had intended. For a moment, he feared it would cause Neil to worry about  _ him.  _ “You’re not reading at meetings nearly as much as you used to, and you always jump a little when anyone walks in.” He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too far into it, but you seem different.”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Neil’s voice had a hint of agitation to it that wasn’t there before. “The play is tomorrow and I’m just trying to be excited.”

Todd nodded and flicked a piece of fuzz off his sweatshirt. 

“Sorry,” Neil said, quickly. 

“No, no, no, it’s fine, I just want you to be happy.”

“I am.” He swallowed. “Hey, do you want to go into town on Wednesday? I thought it could be fun, you know, day after the play. We can go to the library and read old literature like the cliché we are.”

“I’d love that,” Todd said, laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end, folks. 
> 
> Nothing about this fic went at all as I'd planned, but I suppose that's life for you.
> 
> Thanks for coming along on this journey with me and I'll have some new stuff up eventually.


End file.
